


Throwing Rocks Outside Your Window

by Bibabybi



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NO explicit rape, and one scene of attempted rape, but nothing explicit, but there's references to/talking about rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 07:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20991107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibabybi/pseuds/Bibabybi
Summary: “Is this the way it’s gonna be all summer?” Eddie asks, voice small.Richie looks taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”“I mean, are you gonna stay over every night?” For a moment hurt flashes in Richie’s eyes, so Eddie hurriedly continues before he can get the wrong idea. “Are you gonna sleep in the same bed as me and then refuse to talk about it in the morning?”





	Throwing Rocks Outside Your Window

**1.**

Eddie’s asleep when he hears it.

_Thunk._

He’s standing in a field, one he’s never seen in his life.But it seems almost recognizable.Richie’s only a foot away from him, blurry in Eddie’s dream-state.As if he’s seeing him through Richie’s own glasses.They always made the world blur together and his head spin.

His head isn’t spinning now, though.It’s crystal clear.He knows he only has one goal: get to Richie.

He steps forward, only to be abruptly stopped.It’s as if he’s walked into an invisible wall.

_Thunk._

Curiously, he raises a hand and knocks against the force.

Once.

_Thunk._

Twice.

_Thunk._

Three times.

_Thunk._

He glances at Richie, distraught, but the other boy doesn’t seem to have noticed.His expression is unchanging, staring at Eddie with a smile that makes his heart melt.

Eddie presses a flat palm against the force and waits patiently for Richie to join him.

Richie doesn’t move.Doesn’t step forward.All he does is slowly reach out a hand, as if begging Eddie to come closer.

_I can’t_, Eddie desperately wants to shout, _you have to come here.You have to help me out here._

But he never gets the chance.

Because at that exact moment, he wakes up.

_Thunk._

He glances groggily at the window.

For a split second he thinks he’s conjured Richie up with his mind.He dreamt about him, dreamt about begging him to come closer, and he complied.Of course he did.

But that’s ridiculous.

It’s the middle of the night, and he hasn’t even told Richie he’s gotten home yet.

Only, when he goes to peer out the window, it is Richie.He’s standing below him, hair mused and glasses sliding down his nose, with his right hand poised to toss another pebble towards Eddie’s window.

Eddie ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“Richie?” he hisses. “What’re you doing here?”

The only response Richie offers is, “Jesus Chris, Eds, I was ready to give up on you.”

Eddie shakes his head, hoping it’ll help clear some of the sleep from his brain. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Can I come in?” Richie asks.

Eddie nods and gestures for him to climb up.

“No, like, through the door,” Richie says, and he looks almost nervous.Feet shuffled and hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans.

“The door?” Eddie wrinkles his nose. “You’ve never wanted to use the door before.”

“I know, but-”

“It’s only like a foot. You’ve climbed it a million times-”

“Eds-”

“You know it’s noisy.My mom will hear it and you know how that’ll end.”

Richie sighs. “Yeah.Yeah, alright.Just give me a hand.”

Eddie isn’t sure why Richie needs a hand, he’s never needed one before, but he reaches out nonetheless.

He doesn’t miss how Richie winces when he moves, or how he grinds his teeth when his feet hit the floor with perhaps a little more force than he intended.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks cautiously, moving to shut the window behind him.

“Just peachy.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “You decide to show up here in the middle of the night and ask to use the front door - which I’ve never heard you ask to do once in all my nineteen years of life - just for, what, kicks and giggles?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?I can’t miss my Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie reaches out to pinch Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie quickly knocks his hand away.

“Don’t call me that.”

“I see you didn’t miss me.”

His voice is teasing, but it still pulls at Eddie’s heartstrings.

“Of course I missed you,” he says softly. “I just...” He trails off, leaving the sentence dangling in the middle of the room.He just what?What could he possibly have to say?

“Aww, did ya?” Richie’s teasing him again, and it washes away any lingering awkwardness Eddie may feel.

Richie laughs as loudly as he dares (which isn’t very loud, with Eddie’s mom asleep in the other room) and sits himself down on the edge of Eddie’s bed.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” he asks, as casually as if he had just asked if he could grab a glass of water.

“Yeah, of course.Are you sure you’re alright?” Eddie, who had noticed the way Richie winced when he sat down, says.

“Mhm,” Richie nods. “Just tired.Night, Eds.”

And with that, he rolls over and burrows into the blankets.He doesn’t even bother to change out of his jeans.

Eddie cautiously climbs in with him, blinking owlishly at his back.He keeps expecting him to turn over, the way he usually does, so they can whisper words one can only hear when you’re an inch from your best friend’s face.But he never does.

**2.**

It’s only been an hour since Eddie last saw Richie.

They’d spent the day with the rest of the losers, spread out across Bill’s basement like when they were kids.There had hardly been a moment of silence the entire time, everyone rushing to catch the others up on the past year.

Eddie only remembers it in flashes.

He remembers Richie’s babbling about the student radio station at UCLA.He remembers Stan’s grin as he described the birds around his school.He remembers the sparkle in Richie’s eye as he talked about doing stand up at the local cafe.He remembers Bill’s rambling about the new creative writing program.He remembers Richie’s arms around his middle.He remembers Mike’s description of his new dorm room.He remembers the way Richie’s legs tangled with his own as they laid across the old couch.He remembers Bev’s story about the parties she’d stumbled into.He remembers how Richie pulled him flush against him.He remembers Ben’s flushed face as he admitted his daily visits to the campus gym.He remembers the way Richie’s face nuzzled against his shoulder.

He supposes he mostly remembers Richie.

He feels empty without his presence.

Not that he has to worry about that for long.

_Thunk._

Something hot surges through Eddie’s veins and he leaps to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get to the window.Sure enough, Richie’s staring up at him.

“Hey, ‘Chee!” Eddie grins.

“Hey!Help me up!”

“What?Not even gonna ask?”

Richie rolls his eyes as he wordlessly stretches his arm out towards the window. Instinctively, Eddie grabs him and helps hoist him up.

Richie’s barely made it inside before Eddie’s throwing his arms around his shoulders.Normally, Eddie would have enough sense to hold himself back.But he’s exhausted and his skin is still burning from where Richie held him earlier.He _needs_ to be near him.

“Needy today, are we?”

“Shut up,” Eddie says, but there’s no bite behind it.

Richie chuckles, bringing his arms to rest around Eddie’s waist.

“Can I stay?”

“Of course.”

Eddie’s barely gotten the words out before Richie’s slipping out of his grasp and walking - _limping_ \- towards the bed.

“Do you want pajamas?” Eddie asks, ignoring the way his stomach drops.

Richie glances over his shoulder. “Aw, you gonna let me wear your clothes, Eds?” His grin stretches across his entire face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Fine.Whatever.Wear your jeans.”

“No!You already promised, fork them over, Kaspbrak!”

Eddie digs through his pajama drawer, chucking a pair of shorts and an old T-Shirt in Richie’s general direction.

Richie pulls his own shirt off without a second thought.But Eddie’s own thoughts come to a screeching halt.It’s not that he’s never seen Richie’s chest before, they would go swimming nearly once a week every summer.But he’s never been stripping in Eddie’s bedroom before.

“Enjoying the view, Eds?”

Eddie’s eyes snap back up to Richie’s face just as he drops his pants.Eddie wills his face to keep cool.

“Shut up, asshole.”

“So harsh.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, hoping his actions don’t betray how his stomach twists at the sight of Richie in his clothes.

“Yeah, I’m so mean for letting you take over my entire bedroom nearly every day.”

“Aw, you love it.”

Eddie doesn’t give him the pleasure of a response, because in all honesty, he does love it.He loves having this extra time with Richie.He loves having him all to himself.

He slips into bed beside him, frowning as Richie once again turns himself away.

“Rich?” he whispers, voice barely audible to his own ears.

But, apparently, Richie can hear it.He offers a small, “Hmm?” in response.

Eddie taps his shoulder blade gently, continuously jabbing his finger just under the bone, until Richie gives in and rolls over to face him.His eyes are shining slightly, the veil of tears hardly visible in the dull moonlight.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks.It’s not what he meant to ask.But it’s what comes out.

“Yeah.I’m fine.”

“Okay,” mutters Eddie, even though the lie is obvious. “I love you.You know that, right?”

“Love you too, Eds.”

Eddie shuffles closer until there’s less than an inch between them.But he keeps his arms tucked close to his chest, careful not to touch the other boy.

“Richie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we...” he hesitates, chewing uncertainly on his lower lip.Is he really about to ask this? “Can we cuddle?”

Richie’s eyebrows shoot up.Eddie thinks he sees a tear slip out.But he quickly shakes that thought away.It’s just his brain playing tricks on him.It must be.

“You want to cuddle?”

Eddie’s mind runs wild. What if he misread what happened at Bill’s?What if it’s all a joke to Richie?What if he knows what he really means?

Despite all this, he gives one, sharp nod.

Wordlessly, Richie closes the gap between them.His arms come to wrap around Eddie’s waist, and Eddie likes to think the way his hold is just a little too tight is Richie’s way of telling him, _hey.I feel it too.I want it too._

Eddie buries his face in Richie’s chest, taking his chance to breathe him in.He can never pinpoint exactly what his smell is, he was never good at that, but his scent has always been distinctly safe.Not that Eddie could ever say that out loud, Richie would probably laugh him out of town if Eddie ever admitted it.But something about the way Richie smells never ceases to calm his nerves.

“Goodnight,” Eddie murmurs, fingers curling around the T-Shirt hugging Richie’s form.

Richie never responds.

**3.**

“Do you ever sleep at home?”

“I’m at home all day,” Richie says. It’s a lie.He’s out with the losers all day. “Besides, I’m an adult.I’m allowed to sleep wherever I want.”

Eddie, who witnessed Richie attempting to shovel an entire bag of jellybeans in his mouth just earlier that day, pointedly disagrees with this supposed adult claim.But he doesn’t say anything.

“Right.” Eddie chucks a new pair of pajamas at his friend.The ones from Richie’s last visit currently adorn Eddie’s own figure.

He flops onto the bed, choosing to stare up at the ceiling rather than relive the torture of watching Richie change again.If he had chosen the latter, then maybe he would’ve seen the bruises littering Richie’s chest and thighs.

But he didn’t.The only hint he has about these things is the grunt Richie lets out when he lands next to Eddie on the bed.Eddie can hear the pain in his voice, but he’s learned not to ask anymore.

“Is this the way it’s gonna be all summer?” Eddie asks, voice small.

Richie looks taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you gonna stay over every night?” For a moment hurt flashes in Richie’s eyes, so Eddie hurriedly continues before he can get the wrong idea. “Are you gonna sleep in the same bed as me and then refuse to talk about it in the morning?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Eddie shrugs. “I guess I don’t know.I just thought-”

“We’ve been doing this for years, Eddie.”

“I guess.”

“What’s different now?”

“I-” Eddie hesitates.He’s not sure.He knows _something_ is different.He’s positive this is different from when they were thirteen and Richie would sneak in during those days Eddie’s mother was being particularly controlling.But he’s not sure _how_.He settles on, “We’re older now.And you refuse to talk to me.You sleep here and won’t even _look_ at me most nights.”

“I’m tired,” Richie says simply. “I just wanna be with you, Eds.We don’t need to talk-”

“Do you know?” The words spill out of Eddie’s mouth without meaning to.They make his veins go cold and his hands go numb, but a part of him is glad they’re out.Maybe things will turn out in his favor.There has to be a reason Richie’s here every night, right?

“Do I know what?”

Eddie gnaws quietly on his fingernails.A trait he’s spent years trying to repress.He supposes it’s a bit ironic it’s coming up now.

Richie gently grabs Eddie’s hand, guiding it away from his mouth.

“Eddie.Do I know what?”

Eddie twists his neck to gaze at Richie, but the moment their eyes lock, Eddie’s tongue suddenly feels to big for his mouth.He tries to get it out - he really does - but the only sound he can make is a vague choking noise.

Richie squeezes his hand gently, as if to say, _it’s okay.I’m right here._At least, that’s what Eddie would like to believe he’s saying.

Eddie tears his eyes away from his friend, focusing instead on the beige ceiling.Boring.He wishes Richie were that boring.Then maybe he wouldn’t be having this problem.

He clears his throat, as if making room for the words about to escape.

“That I’m in love with you.”

Richie’s hand - the one holding Eddie’s - goes limp, but he doesn’t pull away.

“We can’t talk about this.”

Eddie’s run this scenario through his head for the last six years.He’s gone over every possibly response - good and bad.But never in his wildest dreams had he considered this.And, somehow, it’s the worst possible answer.

“_What_?” Eddie winces at the way the word comes out more like a sob than anything else.

“I’m sorry-”

“_You’re sorry?_”

“Eds-”

“Richie what does that _mean_?”

“It’s just - we just can’t talk about it.It can’t happen.”

Eddie’s suddenly hyper aware of the hand still interlaced with Richie’s and he snatches it away as if he’s been burned.Richie doesn’t put a fight, but if Eddie had turned he might have noticed the tears threatening to fall in Richie’s own eyes.

“Alright,” Eddie says, hoping Richie doesn’t notice the way his voice wobbles. “Well, I’m sorry for bringing it up.You can go if you like.Wouldn’t want it getting out you shared a bed with the local fag.”

“Eds-”

“Goodnight, Richie.” His voice is sharp enough to shut Richie up for once.The silence is almost painful.

For the first time, Eddie’s the one to sleep facing away from Richie.

And if Eddie lets his tears fall in the safety of the dark, neither of them would discuss it in the morning.

**4.**

_Thunk_.

Eddie’s tempted not to answer.

_Thunk_.

He’s tempted to just leave Richie outside.

_Thunk_.

He’s tempted to teach Richie just how painful it is to be locked out.

_Thunk_.

But he can’t do that.Despite everything, he still loves Richie.So he storms his way to the window and throws it open, not bothering to help Richie up this time.He regrets that the tiniest bit when he hears the ragged breath Richie lets out.

But he doesn’t have time to ask about it.

“Gee, Eds, what were you doing up here?I was starting to think you were gonna abandon me out there.”

“Thought about it,” Eddie deadpans.

“Aw, c’mon.I know you love me-”

That, combined with the way Richie ever so casually comes up behind Eddie and throws his arms around his shoulders, causes something to snap inside Eddie.

“_Fuck off!_” he snarls, gripping Richie’s wrist and chucking it as far away from himself as possible.

He practically throws himself onto his bed, pulling the covers all the way up to his chin.If he can’t be safe in Richie’s grip, this is a close second.

“Eds,” Richie sighs, crossing so he’s kneeling in front of Eddie’s face. “You can’t keep being like this.Everyone’s noticed.”

“Oh how hard for them.”

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.I lov-”

“Then maybe you should fucking talk to me!” Eddie spits.

“I-”

“You can’t?How fucking funny.That’s fucking crazy.What a fucking wonderful conversation we’re having right now.”

“Eddie, please.Can’t we just act like everything’s okay?”

“_You just want to ignore it?_” Eddie shouts incredulously.

“I-”

“Well I _can’t_, Rich.I’m sorry if that’s inconvenient for you.”

“I’m sor-”

“Look, you can stay here tonight.Just be quiet, okay?”

Eddie barely gives Richie time to nod before he’s turning away from him.

The last thing Eddie hears is a soft, “Goodnight, Eds.”

**5.**

“I really need to use the front door.”

“Richie, we’ve had this conversation.It’s too dangerous, my mom-”

“Eddie, _please_.I really can’t make it up this time.”

Something in Richie’s voice makes him break.Something about how raw he sounds, something about how his voice breaks when he pleads.

“Alright,” Eddie nods. “Meet me out front.Be careful.”

Richie nods hurriedly and stumbles around the corner.

Eddie’s in less of a hurry.Each step seems to take an eternity.His heart is just about beating out of his chest the entire time.The front door squeaks as it opens and Eddie nearly shrieks in terror.All in all, it’s one of the more terrifying experiences of his life.

But, by some miracle, they make it back to Eddie’s room without disturbing Sonia Kaspbrak’s slumber.

Eddie doesn’t let himself breathe until his bedroom door is securely shut behind them.But once it is, he immediately wheels around on Richie.

“Why the fuck did you need to use the front door?”

And that’s when he sees them.

Bruises - or perhaps one large bruise - litter Richie’s neck.His original skin tone is barely visible, hidden behind a curtain of purple and yellow.

Eddie gently brings his hand up to brush against the nape of Richie’s neck, briefly forgetting their little tiff.But when Richie flinches, Eddie quickly snatches his hand back to himself.

“Sorry,” he says. “What happened?Are these finger prints?Who did this to you?”

“Relax, Eds,” Richie says, and Eddie winces at how hoarse he sounds. “It’s fine.”

“It’s _not_ fine!” insists Eddie. “You have someone’s hand imprinted on your neck!How is that fine?”

“Just drop it.”

“_No!_”

Richie pointedly ignores him, instead taking it upon himself to search through Eddie’s pajamas.

“You want to ignore every other problem in your life? Fine.But you can’t ignore this!_I_ won’t ignore this!”

“It’s not your problem, Eddie.”

“You’re my best friend, it is my problem.”

“That doesn’t make it your problem.”

“You came to me.”

“So?”

“So if you’re going to come to me with your problems, then you’re gonna have to deal with me trying to fix them.”

Richie sighs as he sits on the edge of Eddie’s bed. “I just don’t wanna be alone right now.”

“You don’t have to be,” Eddie says, rushing to sit by his side. “I promise.But I’m not going to just sit here and-”

“It was Patrick.”

Eddie’s taken aback by the sudden admittance of truth. “Hockstetter?”

Richie nods. “Mhm.”

“How did you run into Patrick at this hour?”

“I-” Richie suddenly looks like he’s thirteen again.Scared and vulnerable and unsure of his place in the world.It makes Eddie want to hold him in his arms and pull him as close as possible, to reassure him he won’t let anything happen to him.So he does.He wraps Richie in his arms and pulls him closer until his head in buried in Eddie’s shoulder. “I met up with him.”

“_What‽_” To say that is not what Eddie was expecting would be an understatement. “_Why‽_”

“It’s complicated,” Richie whispers. “A few days before you got home, Bowers and his gang caught me...” he fiddles his fingers, twisting and turning until the skin around his knuckles have gone white. “I was re-carving something.On the kissing bridge.And they figured out what it meant.And now they know...” He takes a shaky breath, and his hand shoots up to grasp the hand Eddie has around his shoulders. “And now they know I’m gay.And I guess Patrick is also -” He clears his throat hurriedly “- gay.And he...he wanted a supposed willing participant in...certain activities.And I dunno.I didn’t know how to get out of it without, ya know, dying.”

Eddie tries to push his own emotions to the back of his head.It doesn’t matter what he thinks.It doesn’t matter what he feels.Richie’s hurt.Richie needs help.

“It kind of looks like you’re dying anyway, ‘Chee.”

Richie chuckles quietly. “Yeah.I guess so.”

“So you’ve been coming here-”

“Straight from Patrick’s,” Richie says. “I’m sorry.I just can’t stand being on my own.The first few times I went home afterwards but all I could think about was his hands all over me and I felt gross and dirty.And then one day I remembered you were supposed to be getting in town so I figured: Hey, why not go check?And then it was so much easier to sleep at night when you were snoring beside me.I know that’s ridiculous-”

“No!” Eddie says. “No, it’s not ridiculous.You’re okay, ‘Chee.You’re alright.” He tightens his hold on his friend. “I won’t let him get to you.Not in here.”

Richie nods, burrowing closer to Eddie. “Can we go to bed?”

“Yeah.Of course.Of course. Do you wanna get changed first?”

Richie nods wordlessly, gathering the pajamas he had abandoned on the floor.He doesn’t move from his place on the bed, instead opting to awkwardly shimmy out of his jeans.Eddie sucks in a sharp breath as he finally notices the bruises across the rest of Richie’s body.But he doesn’t comment.

As soon as Richie’s gotten his pajamas on, he tugs Eddie under the blankets and curls up next to him.Eddie wraps his arms around him, holding him just a little too tightly.The only thing on his mind is to replicate the safety he feels when Richie’s holding him.

Richie presses himself as close to Eddie as he possibly can, as if he’s trying to melt into him.

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs. “I’m gonna help you get out of this, okay?”

“You can’t-”

“I _will_.”

He drops a kiss to Richie’s forehead, for once ignoring the way his head screams at him to pull away.

“I love you too, Eds.” The words are muffled by Eddie’s T-Shirt, but they pump Eddie’s heart full of sunshine.

Eddie shuffles closer, twisting their legs together.There’s hardly a centimeter of space between them, but Eddie desperately wants to bring them even closer.It’s the only thing he can think to do to protect Richie.And, right now, protecting him is the only thing on Eddie’s mind.

Various scenarios where Eddie saves Richie from Patrick’s vicious grasp flit through his brain.But none of it is realistic.None of it could happen.For now, all he can do is hold him and hope.

The last thing he hears is Richie’s voice, slurred with sleep, “It should’ve been you.”

**6.**

The next time Richie crawls through his window, Eddie’s quick to give him pajamas and let him curl up next to him, but he doesn’t say much.How could he?What’s he supposed to say?

Sometimes he imagines giving Richie a piece of his mind.He lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and pictures the whole conversation in his head.

_How could you say that?_ He would shout. _How could you wish something so awful upon me?After all I’ve done for you?_

But then Richie shows up for real.And Eddie can’t bring himself to say any of it.Not when Richie looks so tired and beaten up already.Eddie can’t contribute to that.No matter how upset he is.

So, for the next three nights, the two of them hardly say a word to each other.

Eddie’s sure Richie can feel it.He can tell in the way Richie’s movements are nervous and careful, as if worried he might frighten him.He can tell in the way Richie avoids making direct eye contact with him.He can tell in the way Richie had never again initiated any sort of cuddling.In fact, he’s gone back to sleeping with his back to Eddie.

Not that Eddie notices.Or cares.He’s started sleeping with his back to Richie as well.

Even the other losers have noticed.During the day Richie’s still the same old Richie.He’s jokes and laughs and pokes fun at all of them.Eddie’s stopped laughing, stopped responding, stopped rolling his eyes.Most of the time, he acts as if he hadn’t even heard him.

And it tears his heart in two.Because every time Richie says something, Eddie can feel his gaze on the back of his head.Waiting for Eddie’s reply.But it never comes.

Sometimes the need to respond - to let Richie know he still cares - is so strong Eddie feels as if he’s on fire.And he almost sidles up next to Richie again, letting their arms brush together ever-so-slightly.Just to tell him, _I’m here.I’ll always be here_.

But then he remembers what he said.And the fire turns to ice.

So when Richie crawls through his window tonight, there are pajamas folded carefully on the foot of the bed and enough room in said bed for Richie to sleep comfortably without having to touch Eddie.But Eddie’s already asleep.

**7.**

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Eddie blinks blearily up at Richie.The window is closed again and Richie’s changed into Eddie’s pajamas.He’s also pulled all the covers off Eddie and is currently standing above him, arms crossed and eyes full of fire.

“Dude, what the fuck?” groans Eddie. “Give me my blankets back.”

“No!It’s not my fault you’re cold all the time!”

“At this moment, it is.Because you’re the one who stole the blankets.”

“You can have them back if you tell me what’s been going on with you,” Richie reasons, looking smug with himself.

“Are you fucking serious?” Eddie hisses, because how could he _not_ know? “Now you wanna talk?”

“You’re still hung up on that?” Richie spits. “That was forever ago!I spilled my entire guts to you like a week go, do you not remember that?”

“I remember.”

“Good.Then why are you acting like a piece of shit.”

“Me?” Eddie shouts incredulously, finally shooting upright. “_I’m_ the one acting like a piece of shit?”

“Yeah!” Richie cries out. “I told you everything and the very next day you outright refused to talk to me!”

“And you’re surprised by that?”

“Yes!The night before you said you were gonna help me.You said you loved me.”

“I am helping you.I thought you said letting you stay here was helping you.”

“Not like this,” Richie insists. “This is so much worse than sleeping at home.”

“Then sleep at home!”

“No!I want to know what’s wrong!”

“Jesus, Rich,” snarls Eddie. “How are you so fucking stupid?You can’t say shit like that to people and then expect them not to be pissed-”

Richie’s facade crumbles.The anger falls away, and he’s left with nothing but hurt and fear.It almost makes Eddie want to pull him close again.Almost.

“This is because of what I told you?” he whispers. “Are you - Do you - Do you think I’m dirty?”

His eyes are wide and vulnerable, basically pleading for Eddie to give him an answer.He looks like one of the answers might shatter his entire world.

“No,” Eddie says. “No, of course not.I don’t-”

“Then _why_?What did I say, Eds?”

Tears are spilling out of Richie’s eyes now.Eddie wants to turn away, to act as if he never saw them.But it’s too late.It’s too late and now he couldn’t look away if his life depended on it.

Richie’s hands are shaking and his nose is snotty and his breath is ragged and he seems to have an array of brand new bruises and it’s all just too much for Eddie.Suddenly the thought of fighting back is the worst idea Eddie’s ever had in his life.Suddenly the words on his tongue are too vile even to think about.

So, even though it should be obvious, Eddie tells him. “Right before we went to bed.You said it should’ve been me.”

“Oh.” Richie moves to sit next to him, but keeps his hands to himself. “I didn’t know you heard that.I thought you were asleep.”

“Would that have made it okay?Suddenly it’s less fucked?”

Richie’s shoulders shake.Eddie wants to steady them.He also hates the thought of touching them.

“I thought you liked me,” Richie whispers, not bothering to hide how his voice shakes.

Eddie falters.That wasn’t a response he was expecting.

“I do,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean you can say whatever the fuck you want.”

“I know.I’m sorry.”

“I know what you’re going through is rough,” Eddie says. “And you can do whatever you need to to get through it - I won’t stop you.But I just - it was scary.”

“Yeah.It’s scary,” Richie whispers. “But it would’ve been nicer with you.”

And suddenly the fire is back, surging through Eddie’s veins at an almost alarming pace.

“You think Patrick would’ve enjoyed fucking me more?” he snarls.

Richie blanches. “_What_?”

“That’s what you meant, right?” Eddie sneers. “_It should’ve been you_.I should’ve been the one Patrick set his eyes on.Right?”

“Eds.No.That’s not what I meant.” Richie dives forward, grabbing Eddie’s hands in his own. “That’s not at all what I meant.Holy shit.”

“What else could you have fucking meant?” Eddie spits, trying to pull his hands out of Richie’s grasp.But Richie holds on tight.

“I meant you should have been the one to take my virginity,” Richie says. “I didn’t - God.Patrick would never deserve you, not in a million years.”

“You - _What_?” Eddie can barely get the word out.He feels as if his brain has short circuited.

“Yeah,” Richie murmurs. “That should’ve been yours.”

“But - But - But you said you didn’t like me.Not like that.You said-”

“I know, I know.I’m so sorry.” Richie looks sorry.He looks like he’s about to fall apart. “It was just because of Patrick.I didn’t want you to get involved.I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” He takes Eddie’s face between his hands, grinning through the tears pouring out from beneath his glasses. “I like you so much, Eds.So much it hurts.”

Eddie nods.Because he understands.He understands exactly what he means.

“Kiss me?” he says, breathless.

“Eddie-”

“I don’t care about Patrick.I don’t fucking care what he might do to me.I just - I want to kiss you.Please, ‘Chee?”

And then Richie’s leaning forward, guiding Eddie’s face towards him as he goes.And suddenly he’s kissing him, and it might be the best thing to have ever happened in Eddie’s whole life.

**8.**

“I have good news.” Richie punctuates his sentence with a burning kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I have really good news.”

“Really?Because you look like someone tried to kill you.” It’s a joke, but it comes out more worried than Eddie intended.He can’t help it though.He is worried.He’s always worried.

“That’s part of the good news,” Richie insists.He’s bouncing on his feet as if he can’t even feel the bruises blooming across his skin.

“I can’t see how-”

“I told Patrick I wasn’t coming back.”

Richie looks so proud of himself, grinning despite the purple splotches beneath his eye and the crack in his glasses.

“Did you really?” Eddie says, feeling breathless.

Richie nods furiously. “I mean, you can probably tell it didn’t go _great_.But I think this is the first step to something good!”

“Yeah!” Eddie says.And then, because he can’t think of anything else, “Yes! Yes!OhmyGod!” He pulls Richie into a hug, fingers digging into his shoulders in his haste. “This is really good, Rich!” Then, softer, “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks,” murmurs Richie, his fingers carding through Eddie’s hair. “It’s all thanks to you, Eds.”

“No.No, no way.This is all you.” Eddie pulls away from the hug only to slot his lips against Richie’s. “You were brave all on your own.”

Richie sighs softly, his hand dropping from Eddie’s hair to rest against the back of his neck.

“I love you,” Richie says softly. “I love you so much.I’m so sorry it had to happen this way.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, his lips fumbling against Richie’s as he speaks. “It’s okay.It wasn’t your fault.”

Richie pulls him into another kiss, his free hand coming to rest against Eddie’s hip.Eddie can’t help but grin.This is what the rest of his life will look like, he’s just decided.Just him and Richie and far too much love in their hearts.The thought fills him with a sense of calm he hasn’t felt in years.Maybe hasn’t ever felt.

But Eddie’s never allowed to feel calm for long.

_Thunk._

Eddie’s first thought is, _Richie!_But Richie’s right next to him.Richie’s fastened between his arms.

So then who the fuck is at his window?

Richie’s white as a sheet, and Eddie doesn’t understand why until he turns and sees a Cheshire Cat smile staring at him from behind the glass.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

Patrick knocks again.A silent question, _let me in?_No, not a question.A demand._Let me in!_

Eddie shakes his head.He won’t.He can’t.He promised.

“C’mon, Kapsbrak,” Patrick says, grinning like a shark poised to kill. “Don’t be a prude, let me in.”

Don’t be a prude.What does that mean?What does that _mean_?

“Let me in!”

_Thunk!_

His fist slams against the window.

“Let me in!”

_Thunk!_

Again.

“_Let me in!_”

_Thunk!_

“_Let me in!_”

_Thunk!_

“_Let me in!_”

_Crack!_

Patrick’s eyes are wide and crazed, darting between Richie and Eddie as if deciding on his next meal.He’s still grinning, but his voice, though muffled through the glass, is like jagged glass on a beach.Sharp and dirty and dangerous and strangled.Eddie’s a bit worried his vocal cords may snap.Actually, he’s hoping his vocal cords snap.

Speaking of which, Patrick’s fist is hovering over a large crack in Eddie’s window.

Eddie’s mom is going to kill him.

Fuck.His mom.

His eyes dart wildly towards his bedroom door.If she finds out about any of this he’ll be locked up for the rest of the summer.

Richie follows his eyes and, catching his train of thought, reaches over to squeeze Eddie’s hand.

“Open it, Eds,” he says softly.

“What?No!”

“He’s going to shatter your fucking window, Eddie.Just let him in.”

“No!He can’t be in my house.He can’t.It’s supposed to be safe here.It’s supposed to be safe!He can’t come in!”

_Crack!_

Eddie flinches as Patrick slams his fist against the window once more.The crack widens.

Despite the pleading look in Richie’s eye, Eddie shakes his head.He won’t.He won’t willingly endanger them.If Richie wants to open the window he’s going to have to work up the nerve to do it himself, because Eddie _won’t_.

Except that’s exactly what Richie does.He marches towards the window and throws it open, standing stiff as a board as Patrick clambers in.

He glances casually around the room, as if he hadn’t been screaming bloody murder a second ago.He takes in the pristine desk, the off-white walls, the unopened pill bottles lined up in a perfect row.He takes it all in.And fucking smirks.

“Well, Rich, if I had known you were coming here for sloppy seconds, I might have joined ya.”

The blood drains from Richie’s face. “That’s not what happened.”

Patrick cocks his head curiously. “Funny.That’s not what it looked like.”

Richie squeezes his eyes shut.The clear mantra of _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ repeating in his head.It only makes Patrick’s grin widen.He reaches out to run his fingers through Richie’s hair, tugging until Richie gives in and steps closer.

They’re chest to chest now and Eddie’s blood boils at how Patrick’s hand ever so casually slips into Richie’s back pocket.

“Do you have something to say to me, Richie?” Patrick says, his voice low and dangerous.The same tone he had moments before he helped Henry break Eddie’s arm clean in half all those summers ago.It makes Eddie’s hair stand on end.

Richie shakes his head.Or he tries to.There’s not much he can do with Patrick’s hold on him.

“No?” Patrick tugs harder, pulling Richie’s head back to put his neck on full display. “Are you sure?”

The moment Patrick’s lips touch Richie’s neck, Eddie’s trance in broken.Something snaps inside him.He _promised_ Richie he would be safe.This was supposed to be the one place he wouldn’t have to worry.He had _promised_.

Eddie lurches forward, tearing Richie out of Patrick grasp.Richie yelps as a fistful of hair is left behind between Patrick’s fingers and while the sound makes Eddie want to die inside just a little bit, it’s still better than the alternative.

Eddie quickly pushes Richie behind him, keeping one hand loosely around Richie’s wrist.He points the other accusingly at Patrick. “You need to get the fuck out of my house.”

“Finally decided to grow a backbone, Kapsbrak?”

Eddie’s glare holds steady, even as Patrick saunters towards him, a mocking pout on his lips.

“Too bad,” he says with a sigh. “I almost liked it better when all it took to break you was a few hits.You were always a blubbering mess by the time we were through with you.”

Before Eddie’s even had a chance to process the words, he’s being slammed against the mattress.He struggles and kicks and squirms but Patrick’s always been bigger and stronger than him, it would have been silly to think that would change now. It doesn’t take much before Patrick’s straddling Eddie’s waist, trapping him beneath his weight, and pinning his arms above his head with one hand.

“Maybe this will be fun,” he says, reaching up to pinch Eddie’s cheek with his free hand. “I had forgotten how feisty you were, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie spits.It’s not like when he tells Richie.Richie knows he doesn’t mean it.Richie knows, deep down, that Eddie likes the nickname.Likes the attention Richie gives him.Today, right now, he means every word.

“Patrick, come on, don’t do this.” Richie’s hidden from Eddie’s eyesight, overshadowed by the monster on top of him, but his voice still does wonders to calm Eddie’s nerves.It’s not like he’s at a fucking spa or anything, but at least he knows he’s still there. “_Please_.”

“Don’t worry, Rich, you can join us in a moment,” Patrick drawls.His hand trails down Eddie’s face, lingering at his neck.His fingers wrap around Eddie’s throat, tight enough to be uncomfortable (not that Eddie can imagine _any_ situation where this is comfortable), but not quite cutting off the airflow yet.

Yet.That’s an important part of the sentence.

Eddie knows it’s coming.He knows he’s going to have his own set of bruises to match Richie’s in just a few hours.

The thought makes hot tears prick at his eyes.No matter how hard he tries to make them go away, they slip out.They slide down his cheeks like a hot knife sliding through butter.The horror that fills his chest only makes them come faster, which only adds to the horror.It’s a horrible cycle, really.

Patrick grins down at him. “There it is.”

The fingers around Eddie’s throat are just starting to tighten, jagged nails digging into his flesh, when suddenly Richie’s there, arms draped over Patrick’s shoulders and lips nipping at his neck.

“I missed you,” Richie says, eyelashes fluttering. “You can’t leave me out like this.”

In a moment of distraction, Patrick’s hands fall away from Eddie’s wrists, instead opting to tangle themselves in Richie’s hair.

Even though his hands are free, Eddie can hardly move.He feels as if hundred pound weights have been tied to his arms.

“But you’ve been bad,” Patrick drawls. “Don’t you think I should punish you?”

“Mhm,” Richie says, hands massaging over Patrick’s chest.

His eyes flick towards Eddie, then towards the lamp on the bedside table.Then back to Eddie.

Richie’s voice is light and teasing, but his eyes are anything but._Do it_, they say, _do it now_.

And Eddie could never disappoint Richie.So Eddie drags one trembling hand across the mattress.

“What should I do to you?” Patrick growls.

Eddie’s nearly to the edge of the mattress.

Richie bats his eyelashes. “Whatever you think is necessary.”

Eddie’s fingers spill over the edge.

A smirk splits across Patrick’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

Eddie’s fingertips graze across the edge of the desk.

“I thought you might,” Richie says, trapping his lower lip between his teeth.

Eddie’s fingers close around the neck of the lamp.Before he can second guess himself, he lifts the lamp into the air and smashes it across Patrick’s face, just barely missing Richie’s head.Patrick lets out a shriek that under normal circumstances Eddie would fear would wake his mother, and nearly topples off the bed.Eddie quickly squirms out from underneath him, pulling Richie with him as he goes, and brandishes the half smashes lamp in Patrick’s general direction.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he snarls.

Patrick stumbles, hand clutching the side of his face.Blood spills from between his fingers, dribbling down his chin and landing in little splotches along Eddie’s floor.

“Didn’t think you had it in you Kapsbrak,” Patrick says, eyeing his red-stained hands curiously.

“I’m fucking serious,” Eddie says, ignoring the way his voice trembles. “Get out.”

Patrick steps forward.Eddie’s knees buckle, begging to be at least one step further from Patrick, but he stands his ground.

Eddie’s still clutching the half-shattered lamp, though he’s suddenly not so sure what he plans to do with it.

“Oh?” Patrick says. “You gonna make me?How do you plan to do that?”

Richie’s there in an instant, a loose shard of the lamp clutched in his fist.He plunges the shard into Patrick’s shoulder, blood spurting across his face.

“Get out,” he growls. “Get out or I swear I’ll kill you.”

Patrick doesn’t look scared.In fact, he looks almost pleased.Like this is the exact outcome he wanted.But he starts to stumble towards the window anyway.

“You’re dead,” he says. “You better pray we don’t find you tomorrow because you’re fucking dead.”

With one yank, he pulls the shard out of his shoulder and chucks it in Eddie’s general direction.It lands at his feet with a hollow clatter.And then he’s gone.Leaps out the window and disappears into the night.

Richie slams the window shut, breathing heavy and ragged.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

“He was in my house,” Eddie mutters.He slowly sinks to the ground, pulling his knees up against his chest. “He was in my house.He was in my fucking house.”

In a flash, Richie’s at his side.He pulls Eddie against his chest, gently running his hands up and down his back.

Richie doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing to say.No words of comfort can truly be comforting after an attack like that.So they just sit in the quiet, sharing silent tears.

Eddie’s not sure how long they sit like that.In reality, it’s probably only been a few seconds.But it feels as if it’s been hours when his bedroom door starts to shake.

His breath catches in his throat, frozen terror settling in his veins, as he considers the possibilities.Is Patrick back?Did he bring friends?Have they hurt his mother?

Ironically, it’s his mother’s voice that screeches through the door a moment later.

“Eddie-kins?Why’s this door locked?What’s going on in there?”

Eddie lets out a breath.

“It’s fine, ma,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Just fell out of bed.”

“Are you hurt?Let me in!”

“No, no, I’m fine.I promise.”

“I thought I heard yelling-”

“I’m fine, ma!Just go back to bed.”

Eddie buries his head in his knees as his mother’s retreating footsteps echo down the hall.

“She heard everything,” he whispers. “She heard everything and waited until afterwards to come and check.I could’ve been dead, ‘Chee!”

Richie threads his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “I know.But you’re not.You’re alright.”

“But-”

“You’re alright.”

And Eddie believes him.

“Can you stay?” he whispers into the soft material of Richie’s T-Shirt.

He feels Richie nod more than sees him. “Of course.”

Eddie slips out of Richie’s grasp and although he misses his warmth immediately, he knows it has to be done.He tugs the blankets off the bed, bundling them in his arms before scattering them around the cleanest patch of floor he can find.

Richie watches him intently, but for once doesn’t say a word.Because he knows why.He understands.He wouldn’t want to sleep in his bed either after that.

He follows Eddie’s lead, cocooning themselves amongst the loose blankets. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s middle, gripping him as if worried he might disappear, and buries his nose in his hair.

Neither of them sleep much that night, opting instead to share hushed whispers and secret smiles.But who can blame them?

**9.**

_Thunk!_

Eddie nearly leaps out of his skin at the noise.He tuns, half expecting to see Patrick grinning back at him.But the only person there is Richie.

His glasses are still cracked and bruises (though lighter now) still litter his skin, but he’s grinning like he’s the happiest man on earth.He looks better.A lot better.

Eddie scurries over to open the window, a laugh bubbling out of his throat as Richie awkwardly clambers inside.

“Climbed up all on your own today I see,” Eddie says.

“Yep!” Richie grins. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do I get a reward?”

Eddie rolls his eyes.But, simply because he physically cannot resist Richie, he leans over and gently pecks his lips.

“Good?” he says, voice soft as velvet.

“Good enough for now,” Richie drawls.His eyes dart around the room.It has returned to its usual spotless state, the shattered lamp nowhere to be scene and the floor scrubbed until the blood was only a memory. “Is this where you were all day?”

“Mhm,” nods Eddie.

“You promised you were gonna meet up with us,” Richie says. “You told me this morning.Made me look like a damn fool in front of the others.”

Eddie scoffs. “You _are_ a fool.”

Rich gasps, affronted. “How dare you!I’ll have you know this here is the smartest, most charming fool you could ever meet.”

“Uh-huh sure,” Eddie says.He moves to sit on the floor, pulling Richie down with him. “I was only gonna clean for a little bit.Just until the worst of it was gone.But-” he tugs his lower lip gently between his teeth.What if Richie thinks he’s weird?What if he thinks he’s lame?What if he doesn’t understand? _Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif_. “-But the worst was all of it.I just - I just needed it to be gone.I couldn’t look at it anymore.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Richie gently wipes the pad of his thumb across his cheekbone.

“I know what you mean,” Richie whispers. “I took the longest shower of my life after that first time.Scrubbed until I was raw red.”

Eddie shudders. “That’s awful, Richie.I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Richie whispers, though the strain in his voice tells otherwise.

Eddie wants to insist that it’s not.He wants to beg Richie to tell him what’s wrong.He wants to pull him close and kiss him until nothing hurts anymore.

But he doesn’t do any of these things.If Richie wants to talk, he will.

Instead Eddie gently reaches out to lace their fingers together,fitting his head in the crook of Richie’s neck.

“Besides,” grins Richie. “I got to spend the last few weeks curled up in bed with this cute face.”

Eddie swats his hand away as Richie reaches up to pinch his cheek.

“Stop,” he groans. “God, you’re the worst.”

Richie lets out a boisterous laugh and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders.He tugs him closer until he’s flush against his chest, Eddie basically on his lap, and presses a kiss to the smaller boy’s temple.

“You love me,” Richie says.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie says, though he makes no effort to get away.

Richie lets out a loud mock-gasp. “Eds, how could you say that?After I’ve just confessed my undying love for you-”

“Actually I think I confessed to you.”

“Details, details,” Richie says flippantly.

Eddie shakes his head, glad he’s facing away from Richie so the other boy can’t see the smile forming on his lips.

“I do love you,” Richie says, his voice softer now. “You know that, right?”

Eddie nods, but he feels as if the wind’s been knocked out of him. “I know.”He threads his fingers through Richie’s once more, bringing their intertwined hands up to brush against his lips. “Are you gonna stay here tonight?”

“Mhm,” Richie says, burying his nose in Eddie’s hair. “Was planning on it.”

“Good,” Eddie grins.

“Eds, I love you, but this floor hurts my ass.”

Eddie tumbles off of him and a moment later he’s being pulled to his feet.Richie gently tugs him towards the bed, but Eddie goes stiff at the sight.

“No.”

“Eds-”

“No, Rich,” Eddie says.He sees Richie flinch and it takes him a moment to realize it’s due to his own fingers tightening around Richie’s hand.He quickly loosens his hold, but it doesn’t do much to relax the rest of him. “No.I can’t - I don’t want to - I can still - I don’t-”

Eddie’s well aware that even he doesn’t know what he’s saying.Luckily, Richie seems to understand.He cradles Eddie’s face between his palms, peppering him in tiny kisses until his breathing evens.

“I know, Eds,” he murmurs. “It sucks.It’s always gonna suck.But he’s not here now, and you can’t sleep on the floor forever.”

“I _could_-”

“It would suck.”

“Well, yeah, but so would-”

“I’ll be there,” Richie says.And when Eddie looks into his eyes he sees the all too familiar terror. “I’ll stay with you all night.We’ll help each other, yeah?”

Slowly, Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“Alright.”

Richie guides him into the bed, hands feather-light on his shoulders.For a moment all Eddie can think about is dirty hands around his neck and wandering eyes following his every move.It makes him feel filthy.So filthy that he nearly leaps out of bed and rushes down the hall to the shower.

But then Richie’s there.

Richie’s there and he’s pulling him as close as he possibly can.Eddie can hear his heartbeat in his ear and he _knows_ Richie’s just as scared as he is.So he reaches out and slings an arm over Richie’s side, rubbing his open palm over his back.

“What is this?” he asks.He hadn’t meant for the words to come out, he wasn’t even aware he was thinking about them.But they’re out now, and there’s no way to put them back in.That seems to be happening a lot lately.

“I dunno,” Richie says.Not the most comforting answer. “Whatever you want it to be, I guess.”

Eddie knows what he wants it to be.

“I like this,” he says softly. “I like you.I’ve always liked you.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Shut up.”

Richie chuckles. “You can’t put the cat back in the bag, Spaghetti.I should have known you were a sap for little old me.You always-”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Fuck.

“Oh,” Richie breathes out quietly.

Fuck.Fuck._Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_.

“Yeah,” Richie says. “Yeah, of course.”

Eddie lets out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. “Fuck you, that was the worst wait of my life.”

“It was like five seconds!”

“It was the _worst_.” Eddie gently presses his lips against Richie’s collarbone. “But definitley worth it.I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They fall asleep like that, cocooned in each other’s arms.And for the first time in a long time, when they wake up, the first thing they do is smile.


End file.
